I remember when i was alone. I was 6 and we moved to this new house which until this moment i know that house was hunted. It was so dark at night and I went with my "stepsister-at-that-time" to check the place out. It was so dark...so dark. The fear was so intense, you know, that kind of fear that freezes you that does not let you breath. We ran out of it. For the whole time that we lived in that house, I always was afraid.
I talked with brother and recognize that voice of fear and protest. The kind of voice I can relate to. I heard he has been skipping homework so I called him to tell him that he should do his homework. He replied with rebel's voice: "I'll do it." Tough times he is going through. Tough times he will face in life. Our father is not young anymore and lately he has been sick. I miss my dad, I always did.
While living in that scary house while I was 6, my dad used to disappear for a couple of days. Actually, I do not remember whether it was days, or weeks, I jus remember waiting for him. Unfortunately, imagination is never a friend when we are worried or when when we wait. On top of my bed there was an small window which led to a vacant lot. That lot was scary too because it was so vacant. At nights I used to imagine my dad leaving his glasses on the frame of the window outside while agonizing. That is terrible to imagine when you are kid. Imagine loosing your parents is never easy even when you think you are an adult capable of dealing with such pains. However, I did imagine that. I imagine him being robbed and him being hurt and with his last breath leaving his glasses on that window. Every night when he did not come home, that movie played on my head.
So, I know what my brother is thinking. Even when I do not want to, I cannot deny that my dad is getting weaker. I know he will be ok and that he will recover, and so does my brother. But just as I imagine him being missing during those nights, my brother imagines his father being gone. So, he rebels against the world. So, he complains about someone being taken away. He does not know that yet but that is what his fighting.
I hung up. Silent for 10 minutes, the movie plays again.
10 minutes pass and my throat is tied up. I cannot speak. I can only speak in my mind. I close the doors of myself to the world. I said to myself I can figure everything out and I do not need of anyone.
Someone snaps me out of it.
Then, I realize that i still have my father, my mother, my brother, my stepmother, my stepfather...no one has died. I have not died indeed. How can I be honest with someone when I am not honest with my father and my mother. How can I say I love you to anyone when I never talk about that love with my father and my mother. I do not know what my father and mother think and they do not know what I am going through. Some years ahead my father will die and my brother will be still young. I will still be his son. Why should I wait until my father and mother dies to tell them my stories, to make them laugh, or to make them cry by my side. I know they have a lot stuff going on, they have jobs, house, and their marriages to worry about. However, I cannot hide from them. Besides they always know when something is going with me. I mean I am their son. Genetically, I am them and they are Me. How can I prive them of what is in my mind? how can I prive them of giving me advice, their opinion of what is happening in my life? how? should I wait until they are in the coffin so I can cry on them and ask myself the stupid question: "why i did not talk to them more often? why?!"
My brother has me but I will never replace his parents. I can't and I won't. So I told him: you better do your homework because I am doing the same thing right now and you gotta be good." Next time, I will try to talk to him a bit more. Next time, I will talk to my dad a bit more. I do not want miss my parents when they are gone. I wan to have the relief that I talked to them when I had the chance, that I argue with them when I had the chance, that I laughed with them when I had the chance, that I told them everything when I had the chance, that I heard their advice when I had the chance. My brother will learn that soon. I will tell him that is time to learn to value the old guy and the old lady who bring bread to the table and kiss us good night when we were kids. We move in life leaving friends behind yet somehow parents stick to us...i guess that is genetics. They listen to us but if we do not talk they listen nothing.
I talked with brother and recognize that voice of fear and protest. The kind of voice I can relate to. I heard he has been skipping homework so I called him to tell him that he should do his homework. He replied with rebel's voice: "I'll do it." Tough times he is going through. Tough times he will face in life. Our father is not young anymore and lately he has been sick. I miss my dad, I always did.
While living in that scary house while I was 6, my dad used to disappear for a couple of days. Actually, I do not remember whether it was days, or weeks, I jus remember waiting for him. Unfortunately, imagination is never a friend when we are worried or when when we wait. On top of my bed there was an small window which led to a vacant lot. That lot was scary too because it was so vacant. At nights I used to imagine my dad leaving his glasses on the frame of the window outside while agonizing. That is terrible to imagine when you are kid. Imagine loosing your parents is never easy even when you think you are an adult capable of dealing with such pains. However, I did imagine that. I imagine him being robbed and him being hurt and with his last breath leaving his glasses on that window. Every night when he did not come home, that movie played on my head.
So, I know what my brother is thinking. Even when I do not want to, I cannot deny that my dad is getting weaker. I know he will be ok and that he will recover, and so does my brother. But just as I imagine him being missing during those nights, my brother imagines his father being gone. So, he rebels against the world. So, he complains about someone being taken away. He does not know that yet but that is what his fighting.
I hung up. Silent for 10 minutes, the movie plays again.
10 minutes pass and my throat is tied up. I cannot speak. I can only speak in my mind. I close the doors of myself to the world. I said to myself I can figure everything out and I do not need of anyone.
Someone snaps me out of it.
Then, I realize that i still have my father, my mother, my brother, my stepmother, my stepfather...no one has died. I have not died indeed. How can I be honest with someone when I am not honest with my father and my mother. How can I say I love you to anyone when I never talk about that love with my father and my mother. I do not know what my father and mother think and they do not know what I am going through. Some years ahead my father will die and my brother will be still young. I will still be his son. Why should I wait until my father and mother dies to tell them my stories, to make them laugh, or to make them cry by my side. I know they have a lot stuff going on, they have jobs, house, and their marriages to worry about. However, I cannot hide from them. Besides they always know when something is going with me. I mean I am their son. Genetically, I am them and they are Me. How can I prive them of what is in my mind? how can I prive them of giving me advice, their opinion of what is happening in my life? how? should I wait until they are in the coffin so I can cry on them and ask myself the stupid question: "why i did not talk to them more often? why?!"
My brother has me but I will never replace his parents. I can't and I won't. So I told him: you better do your homework because I am doing the same thing right now and you gotta be good." Next time, I will try to talk to him a bit more. Next time, I will talk to my dad a bit more. I do not want miss my parents when they are gone. I wan to have the relief that I talked to them when I had the chance, that I argue with them when I had the chance, that I laughed with them when I had the chance, that I told them everything when I had the chance, that I heard their advice when I had the chance. My brother will learn that soon. I will tell him that is time to learn to value the old guy and the old lady who bring bread to the table and kiss us good night when we were kids. We move in life leaving friends behind yet somehow parents stick to us...i guess that is genetics. They listen to us but if we do not talk they listen nothing.
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